


I Still Do

by plaidshirtjimkirk



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Cuddling, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Shore Leave, Soulmates, T'hy'la, T'hy'la bond, Vow renewal, old married spirk, protective!jim, spirk, wedding vows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 00:20:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4807754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plaidshirtjimkirk/pseuds/plaidshirtjimkirk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim and Spock attend the wedding of Admiral Komack on Risa. While the planet and reception are beautiful, Jim's attention is drawn only to how damn good Spock looks in that ceremonial robe. Can they slip out the back door and get to their penthouse suite in time?</p><p>This is purely an Old Married Spirk fluff fest, written for K/S Day 2015. <3</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Still Do

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY K/S DAY! <3
> 
> Written for this prompt: "A fluffy little short I'd like to see done is Jim and Spock are married (maybe for a few years or longer) and they get invited to some person's wedding in Starfleet. They go, and Jim or Spock is just having enormous feels for the other. Spock might feel guilty that they didn't have this extravagant wedding and he's thinking maybe Jim would want that... but Jim assures him it's fine. And then they just feel all romantic."

**I Still Do**

Jim tossed his head back and devoured the remainder of the amber liquid in his glass. He winced and exhaled loudly, the strong flavor of scotch stinging his mouth and burning all the way down. It made him wonder how he could have ever been so young to put away shot after shot of Saurian brandy with McCoy in sickbay. Those days were long over—and had been for some time now.

Sometimes, Jim missed the company that came along with the habit, but he wouldn’t have traded anything for the life he’d wound up having or _who_ he shared it with. When he considered that, a conspicuous warmth flooded him, and he wasn’t rightly sure if it were his thoughts alone which inspired it.

The corners of Jim’s lips twitched into a smile at that and his gaze wandered from his empty glass to the glamorous ballroom surrounding him. The place was the textbook definition of glitz, fully decked out with crystal chandeliers, marble floors, and extravagant flower pieces atop pristine linens on each table.

But there was more than the scent of affluence in the air. With the lights low, the candles lit, and the sheer curtains blowing gently about open doorframes to the balcony, romance dominated the atmosphere. Amid this, people of all races were dressed to the nines in elegant attire, dancing and cavorting about each other while a live band played classic Terran swing music. The liquor flowed and the songs went on for hours upon hours.

An attractive Andorian waiter appeared to float across the floor, carrying a tray of flute glasses high up with one hand. Light as a breeze, he twisted and turned to avoid collision with intoxicated guests while surveying who was in need of service. His dark eyes caught the empty glass Jim held and his antennae raised.

Approaching, he presented the tray. “May I offer you another drink, Captain? Some famous Risian champagne or another scotch perhaps?”

Jim grinned. “You again? You trying to get me drunk tonight?”

The antennae twitched with the chortle that followed. “Those were my exact instructions, as per the honored couple.”

“Wouldn’t doubt that for a moment. I’ll pass, though.” Jim winked. “This time.”

The traces of a blush crept across the Andorian’s cheeks and he quickly shifted his attention to the tall man standing beside Jim. “And you, Sir? I have a vintage Vulcan Port available—very rare and _very_ expensive—if it interests you.”

With his shoulders stiffening, Spock’s response was almost too fast. “I must also decline.” A brow raised when he remembered the extent of cordiality necessary at this venue. “Thank you.”

The waiter closed his eyes with a gracious nod and went along on his way.

Vulcan port wine struck once again. It would never cease to amuse Jim.

His gaze roamed over Spock’s ornate robe, taking a few seconds to appreciate the sight. Jim licked his lips to wet them, his provoked mind beginning to wander to what was underneath all those layers of fabric. When he felt himself begin to stir, Jim tilted his head back and knew damn well the delight he felt was present across his features. “No port wine this time, Spock?”

Oh, if anyone else _knew_ the significance of such a poison—and particularly the speed at which it made Spock’s clothes fall off…

Spock elevated his chin and immediately snapped his attention to Jim, quietly chiding, “Do not be obtuse, James Kirk.” His cheeks might have taken on a slight shade of green, but the lights were too low for Jim to be sure.

Jim’s eyes momentarily shut as he stifled the hearty laugh that nearly left him. It wasn’t fair to tease Spock here, but he hadn't been able to stop himself with that golden opportunity.

“And you? Have you no further desire for alcohol?”

A staccato chuckle preceded Jim’s words and he lifted the palm of his free hand. “Oh, no. I know much better than to wind up blasted at an admiral’s wedding—especially when it’s Komack’s. I’m not going to be the one they talk about when the evening ends.” Jim placed the glass on a nearby empty table and then pulled at his collar to stop it from rubbing against his neck. He decided that after this night, he’d never wear a tuxedo again.

‘ _It is unfortunate, as it is aesthetically pleasing on you_ ,’ Spock commented over the bond.

When they looked at each other, Jim saw something significant in the way Spock regarded him—and it wasn’t for the first time this night. The smile crept back across his face and he leaned in slightly to whisper, “What do you say we get out of here?”

Spock studied him for a beat, clearly understanding Jim was sending his own silent message back. When he deciphered the meaning, he swallowed and nodded once. “Yes.”

His reply might have been a little rougher than he intended.

~

After the goodbyes, well-wishings, and nonsensical small talk that had lasted for much too long, Jim and Spock finally earned their freedom and enjoyed their victory in a stroll back to their hotel. Against the background sound of waves rolling in at high tide, their shoes made pleasant tapping noises on the wooden boardwalk.

Jim’s hands were stuffed into his trouser pockets, observing how the two natural satellites filled the sky with light and reflected in the calm moving water of the ocean.

“You know, Spock, some people say Risa’s two moons make it twice as romantic.”

“Do you agree with this opinion?”

Turning his attention to Spock, Jim found those dark eyes upon him and he slowed to a stop. “Not really.” He took hold of the rail and faced the emerald sea again, closing his own and lifting his chin as a warm breeze swept by. His lashes parted when he felt Spock come to stand beside him and he continued his thought, “Don’t get me wrong. It’s a beautiful planet for a wedding.” He quirked his brow. “Surely a great place for a bachelor or bachelorette party too, if someone’s into that kind of thing. But me?”

Jim cast his gaze out to the sky and squinted. “Too few stars. Too much light pollution and noise.” He reaffixed his sights on Spock. “But still a nice place to have a wedding. That’s my verdict.” His lips were upturned into a toothy grin. “Let’s get back to the room.”

Giving himself a push, Jim’s hands slipped from the rail and he took off at a brisker pace. When a familiar image didn’t register in his peripheral vision, he looked over his shoulder and then whirled halfway on his shoes. Walking backwards, he called, “Spock?”

Spock was standing in the same place he had been beside Jim at the rail, still watching the sea. The sound of his name seemed to lure him from the scene and he replied, “Coming.”

The pointed taps of Jim’s astern steps slowed as Spock increased his to catch up. Perhaps there was some merit to that Risian romance claim, after all. The moonlight catching Spock’s ceremonial robe swaying elegantly with his movements was a vision to behold. His sleeves were long on the outer halves and full of motion like the rest of the fabric as he walked quickly to rejoin Jim.

There was something magical about how that soft light was reflected on Spock’s shiny black hair and the way in which it illuminated his face. And Jim knew that wasn’t just his arousal talking. For the millionth time in his life, he wondered how he’d ever gotten so lucky to be able to share everything with someone he loved as much as Spock. His heart swelled.

“Did you want to stay and watch the waves more?” Jim asked, continuing to walk backwards. “I don’t mind.”

“Negative,” Spock replied. “Returning to our room is my current top priority.”

“That right?” The broad smile made another debut across Jim’s features. He held eye contact with Spock for a few moments before pivoting on his heels. “In that case, I think we should pick up the pace!”

And they did.

~

Bound for the top floor, the platform rose from ground level and quickly took them above the height of neighboring resort buildings. Made entirely from transparent aluminum, the lift walls offered a stunning panoramic view of the beach and city which, for different reasons, managed to be equally beautiful during night and day. The sensory feedback just kept coming, with the clean scent of coconut and relaxing local music playing to make the short ride even more enjoyable.

Jim’s hands were stuffed in his trouser pockets again and he leaned his shoulders back unto one of the far corners. His left foot was lifted so that the sole pressed to the see-through panel, and he’d turned his head to take in the gorgeous display of scenery.

Spock surveyed him in silence, feeling the thrills of anticipation and desire surging through their bond. His own body was reacting to the idea of Jim pinning him to that overly large, soft bed in their room, but there was something else vying for the attention of Spock’s thoughts as well.

Just before Jim noticed he was being observed, Spock shifted his gaze to the white sands of the beach as the lift slowed to a stop. With a satisfying chime, the doors split and allowed them both to exit.

It only took several steps to reach the door of their penthouse suite, and Jim lifted his hand to activate the biometric scanner. He opened his eyes wide to allow the device to read his retinas and the entrance swished open. A palm was held out, indicating Spock should walk in first.

The darkness brightened automatically as Spock stepped through, eco-friendly accent lights illuminating luxurious furniture and floors. Built with modern chic flair, the rooms were filled with minimalist chocolate brown and pearly white décor. Everything had the luster of gloss—and not to mention opulence.

With an open layout, nearly every part of the space was uncluttered and visible from Spock’s current position. A divider wall constructed from lightly colored stone blocks split the area right down the middle. It boasted a long, centered strip of glass doubling as a closed-in fireplace for functional design.

The enormous round-shaped bed was off to the far right side, dressed up with plushy white blankets and so many pillows that the sight was nearly preposterous. Close to it was the extravagant bathroom, complete with a surplus of amenities and a four-legged bathtub. To the left were the kitchen and sitting room, each decorated beautifully with simplistic, modern adornments.

But the most breathtaking feature of all was the view.

Similar to the lift, the outer walls were made of floor-to-ceiling transparent aluminum windows; however, these panes were specially manufactured to retract in multiple places, giving access to a glamorous wrap-around balcony. The outdoor space was constructed of umber-colored concrete ledges and a sturdy floor fashioned to resemble wood.

That scenery hadn’t come at the cost of privacy, however. Large, dark brown curtains were tied back in each corner where the transparent walls met, each set bound together by a massive sash bow embellished with beads. The material they were made of was heavy enough to block out not only public airspace but the light and heat from Risa’s two suns in the afternoon.

The air carried hints of a sweet smell—likely from the tropical bouquets of flowers adorning the tables and counters. After taking only several steps forward, Spock stopped in his tracks to absorb all of this again. It was unlike anything he’d ever experienced in his life of frugality, and almost too much to even process.

A pair of robust arms wrapped around his waist from behind and the bottom of Jim’s chin touched his left shoulder as he rested it there. Cocking his head to the side so that his lips pressed to Spock’s neck, Jim quietly inquired, “Status report, Mister Spock?”

Spock’s spine relaxed against Jim’s warm body and he turned his face, his cheek gently bumping into his bondmate’s forehead. His hands raised and landed on Jim’s arms crossed about his waist, giving them a tender squeeze. “It is excessive, Jim.”

A hum left Jim’s lips as they trailed kisses from the side of Spock's neck to the back. “That right?”

“Yes,” Spock whispered, tilting his head to the opposite side and exposing more of his sensitive skin to Jim’s ministrations. “I am not—” His upper teeth barely scraped his bottom lip when a jolt ran down his spine. “—not accustomed to this.”

“You should be.”

“It is much too extrava—”

“Shh,” Jim breathed. Spock’s eyes closed when his waist was released and he felt his sides being massaged up and down through the layers of his robe. “Let me spoil you for once.”

“I couldn’t stop staring at you today, Spock. You look so damn elegant in this, so good…even better than Komack and whatever number wife that was for him.” Jim’s massage stopped, his hands taking fistfuls of the material and beginning to pull it up. “But right now, it needs to go.”

Spock broke free from that display of possession by pivoting in a half-circle—only to present himself again at a different angle. His lips paused mere millimeters from Jim’s and right before they collided, he softly breathed, “I concur.”

It wasn’t long before the boots came off and they’d carefully begun a heated journey to the sleeping area. Their steps were slow and cautious despite the hurry so that Spock wouldn’t trip over his attire—and even then, they stumbled several times.

Once they reached the bed, Jim slipped away from Spock and strode over to the nearest corner. He made quick work of undoing the large bow which held the curtains back, and with a yank, he freed them. They were sent sailing across the ceiling tracks to shroud the bed in privacy.

As Jim made his way back, he reached for his main source of irritation throughout the day—that damned bowtie—and undid it, discarding it on the floor. His fingers slipped the top buttons of his shirt through their respective holes, finally freeing his neck from its captivity and then began to liberate himself from the tuxedo itself.

“Spock, that’s rude,” Jim admonished in a playful tone, shrugging off the jacket and tossing it aimlessly behind him. His eyes were filled with desire as he approached, drinking in every ounce of his bondmate before he cupped Spock’s cheeks. He pressed a kiss to his lips and touched their foreheads together muttering, “You’re not supposed to look better than _both_ the bride and groom.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Jim,” Spock breathed, pushing their mouths together when he felt a hand plant at the small of his back and rise up to the robe's collar. The zipper was taken and slowly pulled down, only enough for one large finger to press against the top of it.

Jim huffed, smiling. “It got me this far…”

And he was right. Spock would give him that much.

Taking his time, Jim slowly pushed the zipper further and further down, his fingertip running over Spock’s spine and thermal undergarments as the material of the robe split. When he finally reached the end of the track of hooks and hollows, Jim took hold of the fabric at Spock’s shoulders and gently pulled it off. Once it slipped over the arms, he dropped the heavy attire in a puddle around Spock’s ankles.

There were several constants in all of the decades Spock had spent with Jim, and one of them was the way in which he found himself being tenderly undressed. Jim removed his layers of clothing piece by piece, and even when he aggressively did so, it still seemed like he was always unwrapping a precious gift.

Careful to never scratch Spock’s skin, tear his clothes, or cause him discomfort in any way, Jim seemed to revel in disrobing him. He projected a great sense of pride in the fact that he had the right to do so. And though Spock couldn’t fully understand why, he knew that Jim considered him his ultimate treasure—one he cherished and cared for…and was very unwilling to share.

That was partially why those curtains were closed. The slow reveal of Spock’s body was for Jim alone, and Spock found no qualm in it.

Now, standing in his skin tight thermal layers, those human eyes were on him, wandering over his frame with one part affection and one part wonder—almost as if Jim didn’t believe he were real.

Spock’s hands reached for the buttons of Jim’s vest and began undoing them, next moving to the white shirt. He slid them off and then sat on the edge of the bed, reaching for his own. The material was pulled up his flat torso and then over his head. When the undershirt was free, Spock held it in front of his mouth as he watched Jim pulling his belt out of the loops and then dropping his trousers. He stood there in nothing more than a pair of black briefs.

When their gazes met, Jim smiled and the inner ends of his brows lifted to soften his expression further. “You look shy like that.”

Shaking his head, Spock lowered the shirt to his lap and confessed, “I was simply appreciating your form.”

Jim’s eyes fell half-lidded and his head tilted to the side as his bare feet slowly padded the several steps to where Spock sat. He leaned forward, running one hand through the short black hair until it cupped the back of Spock’s head. His other took hold of the thermal shirt. “ _Now_ who’s using flattery?”

Jim tossed the article behind him and his expression became more serious. His lashes fell and he nosed Spock’s cheek before taking his lips in a kiss and guiding him down to the bed.

The top blanket was pure fluff—stuffed with some kind of faux feathers—and as Spock slid backward to the middle of it, the comfort of the silk-texture on his skin helped to heighten his senses. A low, barely audible groan left him when Jim broke away from his mouth and began to trail down his jaw and neck. He wandered all the way down until his fingers hooked underneath the elastic bands of both Spock’s briefs and dark leggings.

They looked at each other as Jim’s advancement came to an intentional halt. Finally, Spock’s head fell back upon the blanket when he felt the last pieces of clothing pulled away to leave him naked and entirely at Jim’s mercy.

Spock found himself wanting nothing more.

~

The curtains had been pulled back to the corner and bound, making way for silver moonlight to spill through the open windows. It bled across the floor in long stretches, casting soft shades of blue and gray across the darkness of the penthouse. The white furniture contrasted harshly against it, and the difference in hue made lighter objects glow with a dreamy haze.

But nothing stood out so strongly as the bed, front and center amid the darker colors with its stark white furnishings. In the middle of it, buried beneath the oversized plush blankets, lay Jim and Spock. An unintentional fort of pillows lined the sides of the upper half of the mattress, keeping them safe and warm.

On his side, Spock draped an arm over Jim, his hand catching his bondmate’s and holding it tightly. He rested a cheek on Jim’s shoulder and closed his eyes, reveling in the warmth of the closeness they shared. The arm that had wrapped around Spock held him tight, fingers tracing little circles upon his naked back.

The sheets smelled like coconut and Jim, and Spock took in a long, deep breath of both.

A tiny groan reverberated from within Jim’s chest and he pulled Spock tightly against him as if they could never be close enough. His lashes parted. “This is the most comfortable bed I have _ever_ been in,” he concluded.

“It is quite soft,” Spock agreed, entwining his fingers with Jim’s. “Though I find that anywhere would suffice as long as you are beside me.”

The quiet laugh which rumbled through Jim’s core was a pleasant sound to Spock’s ears. “Since when did you become such a romantic?” He turned his face, pursing his lips into sleek, dark hair.

“It appears you have contaminated me in some ways.”

“Oops.” The mock apology came as Jim’s fingers continued tenderly stroking Spock’s side. “But you were right. I guess logic wins again.”

With a deep hum, Spock closed his eyes and listened to the steady rhythm of Jim’s beating heart. “Once more, indeed.”

“I love you.”

The bond had entwined their souls for years now, but hearing those three simple words was always like the first time all over again for Spock. Jim rarely voiced them, preferring to send his affection across their link; he’d been well aware of Spock’s penchant for reticence where confessions were concerned and found it even a bit endearing.

Now, however, it seemed Jim was in the mood for talking. Spock found the arm retreating from beneath him as Jim flopped on his side, putting them face-to-face. A hand lifted and the back of Jim’s pointer finger caressed Spock’s narrow jawline, drifting to his uppermost psi point and then over to the back of his head. Their foreheads touched.

“I can’t stop thinking about how fortunate I am to have you with me, Spock.” Jim’s voice was soft. “I wouldn’t trade anything in the universe for this.”

Spock recognized Jim’s words were echoing what he had perceived over their bond during the wedding reception, and that realization made him recall his own thoughts. At one time, he would have concealed them and even believed they were invalid. It was for much too long that Spock had attempted to drown all these questions plaguing his mind with meditation instead of vocalizing them; he believed it was the Vulcan way. In actuality, he was only hurting himself and complicating life for everyone around him.

If there was one thing Spock had learned from all of this time with Jim, it was that communication was one of the most important things between them. It had taken so much personal growth to arrive at this stage of acceptance, and Spock could attribute it to nothing other than Jim’s constant encouragement.

“Jim,” he whispered. “May I inquire something?”

Pulling back just enough so they could make eye contact, Jim replied in the same tone. “Anything.”

“Do you regret we bonded in the Vulcan way?”

Jim’s brow furrowed, indicating that was definitely not what he thought he would hear. “What?”

Lowering his gaze for a moment of thought, Spock returned it. “The wedding ceremony today was Terran style, was it not? Do you regret not holding such an event for our joining?”

Immediately, Jim’s face relaxed into a smile and he closed his eyes.

“Admiral Komack and his wife appeared to have enjoyed it very much—and the attendees,” Spock continued. “Do you not wish that we—”

“No,” Jim interjected with a laugh. His hand took Spock’s shoulder and he gave it a stiff shake. “ _No_. Absolutely not. What even gave you that idea?”

“Ah…” Spock was silent as he mused on it. “I believe I have misinterpreted what you said when we were walking by the sea.”

“About Risa being a nice place for a wedding?” Jim asked. He raised his brows. “It is. But that doesn’t mean I want one. We’re both private people, Spock. You wouldn’t enjoy a huge thing like that and neither would I. In fact…” Jim’s fingers began drumming upon Spock’s arm. “I’m really grateful we only had a Vulcan ceremony.”

“It was not even traditional.”

“Doesn’t matter. The important thing was that the bond was established and the necessary paperwork was filled out.” Jim wore contentment once more. “That’s a small price to pay for treasure which can't be valued, if I do say so myself.”

Spock closed his eyes and shook his head against the pillow.

“Hey. Nope. Don’t start that. Don’t deny it.” Jim’s fingers slipped down Spock’s arm to take his hand. He brought it up to his mouth and kissed the back of the slender digits. “Whether you like it or not, that’s what you are to me.”

“I am aware. Though I—”

“—don’t understand why,” Jim finished for him. He rolled on his back with a grin. “Oh, Mister Spock. Whatever will I do with you?”

Spock raised his eyebrows. “If you are open to suggestion, you might wish to repeat what you did before this conversation began.”

A hearty laugh pushed through Jim’s lips and he just closed his eyes. “You’re a real piece of work! I come here for some rest and relaxation and you want to work me the entire time.” He chuckled, looking over at him. “Not that I mind.”

Spock’s features hinted at amusement and Jim seemed to soak that up.

“You know what I’d like though, Spock? You’ll probably tell me it’s trivial and you’d be right—because it is. But I’d really love to buy wedding rings. I have a piece of you with me at all times through the bond, but having something physical to hold onto…” He trailed off. “Well, I just think it would be nice.”

“Tomorrow, Jim.”

“Tomorrow what?”

“We will shop for rings.”

“You’re kidding me right now!” Jim blurted out.

“Vulcans do nothing of the sort.”

“You know what I mean, Spock,” Jim countered. “I didn’t think you’d be so open to the idea. After all, it _is_ just a piece of jewelry. Can't hold a candle to what we already share...”

“And yet it is meaningful to you, Jim.” Spock’s hand entwined with the one holding his again. “And therefore, it is also meaningful to me.”

The smile that crossed Jim’s face was worth the cost of the entire galaxy, and compared to that, purchasing two rings seemed a trivial investment.

“Tomorrow, then,” Jim confirmed, his arm slipping back beneath Spock and drawing him near once more in the position they’d started out in.

Spock’s cheek touched Jim’s shoulder and he closed his eyes. “Tomorrow.”

~

The transition to dusk was beautiful on Risa. From the vantage point on their balcony, Jim and Spock watched both suns sink beneath the line where the ocean met the sky. They were huddled together on the outdoor couch, a blanket draped over them and their feet resting on an ottoman. Spock had slipped into one of Jim’s long-sleeved flannel shirts, and seemed comfortably warm.

“It’s no wonder why people say Risa is truly paradise,” Jim said. “Look at that view.”

The sky resembled a painting with sweeping strokes of pastel colors mixing in natural harmony. Even the sea changed in attempt to rival the beauty of its heavenly sister, with gentle waves reflecting her complexion like a kaleidoscope. But there was no rivalry, only complement. Together, they formed the image of a perfect sunset.

And with Spock on his shoulder, Jim decided it couldn’t get any better than this.

“You know, I actually don’t know when I married you,” he suddenly spoke, not thinking about how ridiculous that statement sounded before it left him.

In his peripheral vision, Jim could see Spock moving to study him. “Jim?”

“I really don’t know,” Jim affirmed with a breathy laugh, turning to look at Spock. A hand raised and stroked through the short black hair. “Was it when I first saw you when I materialized on the transporter pad? Possibly…” He tilted his head and his gaze drifted back to the line of crimson bleeding over the horizon.

“Maybe it was when I first saw you do that thing you do with your eyebrows, or during our first chess match. Maybe it was when you reassured me when I was split in two halves or defended me during the court martial trial.”

Spock cast his attention to the sky too, silently listening.

“Or was it in New York? When I thought you’d been blinded? Maybe it happened when you had me pinned to the ground on Vulcan.”

Jim’s left hand took Spock’s, both now adorned by silver rings on the fourth digits. They agreed to wear them discreetly on a small chain about the neck, but for the current moment, neither seemed keen on taking them off their fingers.

“Maybe I married you over and over in my head and will just keep on marrying you every time you make me fall in love with you,” Jim concluded, giving a tender squeeze to Spock’s hand before he lifted it and pressed a kiss to the knuckles.

Spock’s gaze returned to him thoughtfully, watching as Jim continued to purse his lips upon his digits.

“If that is the case, Jim,” he said quietly. “I do.”

Jim lifted his chin, his expression softening as their eyes met. He cupped Spock’s cheek, and drew their lips together in a silent vow—a promise that for as long as he could, and as long as he was able, he would love and honor Spock for all time.

Though it went unspoken, Spock heard him. And Jim kept his word.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading! I wrote this story in literally a day and a half and wanted to post in time for K/S Day, so it's self-betaed.
> 
> (Side note: If you're following Paths in the Starlight and happen to be reading this, there's a really good chance I'm not going to be able to post on time on Friday. >_o I'm going to try, but I can't guarantee.)
> 
>  
> 
> Hang out with me! [tumblr](http://plaidshirtjimkirk.tumblr.com) | [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/TOSCaptainKirk) | [KSA](http://ksarchive.com/viewuser.php?uid=12451) | [Wordpress](http://plaidshirtjimkirk.wordpress.com) | [Pinterest](http://www.pinterest.com/cptjameskirk/)
> 
> Got feedback you'd like to share but don't want to leave it here? Drop a line to plaidshirtjimkirk@gmail.com.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own Star Trek. This piece is purely a work of fiction and I am not profiting from it in any way. I do not consent to my work being reposted or reuploaded, in full or in part, to any other website without my permission.


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